


Non-Negotiable

by StarlightCaptivator



Category: The Transformers (IDW Generation One), Transformers - All Media Types
Genre: Abortion, Gen, M/M, Mechpreg, Medical Procedures, Other, Past Relationship(s)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-26
Updated: 2016-06-26
Packaged: 2018-07-15 17:35:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,377
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7232095
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/StarlightCaptivator/pseuds/StarlightCaptivator
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He'd hold to his word, even if that meant taking care of messes from indiscretions he swears were one-time only.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Non-Negotiable

**Author's Note:**

> Here's another old work that was previously tumblr only, posted in Octorber of 2015. Megamom A-Side, as per the label says. If you're keeping track, this takes place between the second and third sections of [Succession](http://archiveofourown.org/works/6916480).
> 
> Enjoy~

“Are you equipped to perform a systems flush?”

The medic had given pause the first time he'd been asked that which was enough time then to be grabbed on both wrists and pulled. He was barely into his true brands when he had been cornered by twin cassettes, told that “The big boss” wanted to see him. He has thought at first they meant _their_ boss, and with a flash of fear he wondered if his origins as a towers medic had been figured out.

He had been a part of the oppressive class and they had found him out, despite his loyalty, the careful repainting, his tenure before he took the brand proper.

He was scared to find himself on receiving end of a mental probe, and then- a smelting pit.

What waited for him was far, far scarier.

He found himself face to face with Megatron himself and for all his wildest fantasies of proving himself a skilled medic for the revolution going forwards, he never expected to meet with them like this.

_A systems flush??_

He was sure he misheard. “D-Deepest pardons, my Lord but a-”

Megatron’s carmine gaze was unwavering, his battle-worn features a mask of the most serious nature. “A systems flush. Most specifically, gestational systems.”

Oh.

Oh _Primus_.

The medic had heard rumors, but he never suspected them to be true. He didn’t let his optics dart to the door behind his liege lord, though he expected to soon be led into there and find an unconscious officer strapped on to a mediberth, unconscious and plating open- ready for him to purge a fetal protoform from his gestation tank and apply the programming to allow a quiet extinguishing of the newspark orbiting it’s carrier’s.

He snapped right back to attention, into his practiced demeanor for when he had to flush a system in the towers. “Of course, my lord.”

He had done thousands of flushes.

Line flushes for when a noble took too much of their favorite substance and overdosed, fuel tank flushes for bad energon or to ease a sick mech when allergic reactions occurred… or for an excess of highgrade, gestational flushes for those incidents when a mech too young- too brash- or too….. _attached_ found them-self carrying.

It was standard, he had nothing to worry about… He hoped.

“And I assume you can keep this to yourself, outside of your usual patient confidentiality protocols?” Lord Megatron’s voice was smooth, but with a razor's edge that warned that should he let whatever he encountered in the next room slip from his vocalizer, there would be _dire_ consequences.

He straightened up fully, trying to exude confidence in his ability. “I will do _whatever_ you need of me, my Lord, however discreetly you wish it.”  his words appeared to please his leader, as Megatron’s helm seemed to dip in the smallest of approving nods.

“Good. Follow me.” Megatron turned, and as the medic suspected, led him into the attached room. What he didn’t expect was to find it empty. What he expected _even less_ was for his Lord to climb onto the inclined slab there and then look at him expectantly.

…. Literally expectantly.

A fresh wave of horror and cold epiphany washed over the medic when he realized what needed to be done, what Megatron expected of him.

 _Megatron_ was the one that needed the flush. _Megatron_ was the reason extra discretion was needed.

The medic initiated emergency triage protocols to prevent a logic crash, and felt relaxation swamp over his processor. He could do this, he was needed now. He was the calm in the eye of the storm.

He made his way to Megatron’s side, where a neat- if sparse cart was parked, with all the supplies he’d need on it. The medic got to mixing what he needed immediately. “I’ll need to have one of your medical ports, my Lord.” Some of the authority in the small room had shifted imperceptibly and after palpable hesitation, the big mech adjusted and opened a hatch on his side.

Driven by his emergency protocols, the medic withdrew a medical cable and plugged in without hesitation. After the initial handshake, he initiated the necessary transformations and began to speak. “I’m bringing your gestation tank forwards, I have a solution that’ll clean it out from the inside when it goes into the intake line.” Abdominal plating moved neatly aside as he spoke, and he loaded his solution into a large syringe.

Passively he felt Megatron tense through the connection at the sight and without thinking he sent a soothing pulse down their hardline. Many patients didn’t like the sight of the injector. “It won’t hurt a bit, just feel like a bit of a tingle in your tanks for a short while.” He assured. “The flush will just come right out with your waste energon, no traces or unseemly bits.” He didn’t rush, nor did he change from his placid, calming tone, just kept his movements fluid as he identified the necessary line to the tank.

He paused when his liege spoke. “For curiosity’s sake…” The medic looked up, whereas Megatron’s gaze was firmly glued to his exposed innards in some sort of macabre fascination. “What is the status of the sparkling?” The medic wondered to himself if his Lord was having second thoughts, but he redirected his attention to get a cursory scan of Megatron’s gestation system.

“The spark itself is strong, Lord Megatron. The protoforms are small, but at this stage this is to be expected.” The air hung heavy between them for a tense moment.

“Proto _forms_?” Megatron asked, hard gaze moving back to the medic.

“Yes, sir. Should development continue, the newspark shows indications of splitting. You’re carrying split-spark twins.” The medic didn’t fidget, his voice remained placid. “Should I stop the procedure, My Lord?”

Megatron’s expression hardened, any shock he may have exhibited was long quashed, not that any had been _seen_ , oh no. He turned his attention back to his innards. “No, this needs to be done. Continue.”

The medic bowed his head. “As you say, Lord Megatron.” He focused his attention back down, and carefully inserted the syringe into the appropriate line. The shudder at the strange feeling was all to be expected so he wrote it off as normal, and it was in very quick order that he was able to pull back and examine the line to make sure he hadn’t damaged it. He uploaded the extinguishing program when he received a confirmation ping about the contents of the tank dissolving, and allowed Megatron’s innards and plating to go back into place.

With a triple-checked confirmation that everything was taken care of and that there was only one spark thrumming away in his liege’s chest, he disengaged. “And, there we are! All finished, Sir.” The medic pulled back as Megatron rose from the berth, full of the imposing might that someone like him produced in such close quarters. He made his way back to the door and the medic automatically followed.

In the other room Soundwave was waiting for them, standing at attention. Alarm rose in sharp prickles in the back of the medic’s processor, but his outer demeanor remained calm thanks to his emergency protocols still in place.

“Thank you for your work, Doctor. It was a useful contribution to the cause.” Megatron’s voice cut through his thoughts and since he knew a dismissal when he heard one, the medic gave a deep bow before righting and making his way out. He would be heading straight to other medical personnel if he could help it, to deal with the helmache his imminent crash would cause. He quadruple encrypted the data shunted into the automatic medical file made, and deleted the original on his way out.

* * *

 

Left alone with Megatron, Soundwave allowed for the distance and silence a moment before he moved to gently lay a hand on his Lord’s arm- on the canon the was attached to his arm. It was a touch of the tactile comfort he knew Megatron wouldn’t ask for, knowing now what they both did.

“Pax put _twins_ on me, Soundwave.” He growled, barely above a whisper.

Soundwave could do naught but tighten his grip, just that tiny bit.

**Author's Note:**

> Things are a liiiiittle hectic right now, I don't know why I thought I'd get my writing time back, with people in town. Hopefully I get some of that back soon and put some new stuff- continuing and otherwise, up. :,Dc 
> 
> Thanks for reading!


End file.
